27
I must be hallucinating.
It’s only when Mei shuffles toward me, chunky wedges clunking against the tile floor, and flings her arms open that I know it’s real. They’re actually here.
Seconds into the hug, she shrinks back like I’ve burned her. A simple hug. That’s all it takes for her to pick up on my negative energy. And while I haven’t told her about Caleb leaving me in Florence, or about Teller, I get the feeling she’ll figure it out. If she hasn’t already. I deliberately avoid eye contact as she gives me a once-over.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask before she can interrogate me.
“Had to make sure you didn’t get any weird face tattoos or body piercings,” Dad says.
I cough, shoving my hand in my pocket to hide my moon tattoo. That’s a conversation for a different day.
“Three weeks was too long to go without seeing you,” he says, oblivious to the weird vibes as he wraps me in a bear hug. I let myself sag into him as he rocks me back and forth, grateful for his solid, steady presence.
“I thought you never wanted to travel again,” I say to Dad.
He shrugs. “Well, you know I’ve always wanted to see Pompeii. When you told me it was next on the itinerary, on the way to Amalfi, I couldn’t resist.”
“He’s been having total FOMO,” Mei explains, taking her sunglasses off to get a better look at the villa. “Personally, I came for the pasta. I’ve been thinking about it ever since your mom and I left this place. And you’ll never believe the promo on travel points with my credit card. And being back here is just—” She pauses, eyes welling for a flash. “This place hasn’t changed a bit.”
Before she can get too teary, Dad’s arm shoots up in a wave. “Teller!”
Behind me, Teller approaches sheepishly. We make brief, yet hesitant, eye contact before he turns on a smile. Dad is eager to hear all about Teller’s first year at college, while Mei demands to know when he got so tall. And fit. She hasn’t seen him since Lunar New Year three years ago.
After they check in, we take the evening to drive around Tuscany with no specific agenda. Mei likes to be in control of her transportation, so she and Dad rent a small hatchback. It’s nice to go at our own pace for once. We stop at a few farms and vineyards that Mei has a “feeling” about. Neither Dad nor Mei are huge wine drinkers, so we don’t spend long at any one place.
“I hope we didn’t cramp your style,” Mei says once we’ve settled in bed. I opt to stay in her room tonight, for obvious reasons. Frankly, Teller seemed relieved, and I don’t blame him. Space is good. We need this.
“Not at all,” I say, staring at the ceiling. Of course, I was initially disappointed it wasn’t Caleb coming back for me. But it’s hard to be sad when Dad and Mei flew halfway across the world to be with me. They’re also proving an excellent buffer between Teller and me. “I really needed you here, actually.”
I mean that. Teller and I may be back on speaking terms, but there’s still limited eye contact. Long bouts of silence that don’t feel natural. Teller is usually one of the people I’m most comfortable with, but being alone with him right now is almost unbearable. Besides, it’s much easier to pretend you didn’t hook up with your best friend when you’re around other people.
“I know,” Mei says simply. She just knows things, sometimes even before me. When I was twelve, she kept me home from school one day because she had a “bad feeling.” Turns out, a couple girls at school had started an “I Hate Lo” club based on some lie that I’d held hands with one of their boyfriends at a birthday party that weekend (I did not). And while Mei wasn’t able to protect me from finding out about it, she saved me the humiliation of seeing their “I Hate Lo” friendship bracelets, which soon came off when they found out it was Becca Ryan, not me, who’d held said boyfriend’s hand. There is truly no one crueler than a middle school girl.
I let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah. I officially scared Caleb off for good.”
She gives me one of those looks, as if to say, You’re being dramatic . “What happened?”
I tell her that I’d come clean about my vision, revealed the whole soulmate thing. Then how he checked out of the hostel without even saying goodbye, without leaving any contact information.
Why did I even have these visions in the first place? Things were better when I was just Ordinary Lo. Sure, it sucked that I was the one big fat failure in the family, but at least I’d gotten used to that reality. By nineteen, everyone had stopped expecting things from me.
“When I first told Layla, she laughed her ass off and asked if I was on drugs,” Mei tells me to make me feel better. It doesn’t work.
“But she didn’t flee the city. She came around, obviously,” I point out.
“They always do, because they’re meant to,” she says simply. “It’s fate, after all.”
We’re ready to go before the sun comes up. It’s a full day’s drive to Amalfi, including our stop in Pompeii. Despite Mei’s multiple bathroom breaks, we make it to Pompeii by late afternoon.
Everything is totally and completely normal with Teller. I mean, if you overlook the fact that he can’t make eye contact without his entire face turning red. Or the fact that when he speaks, all I can hear is the noise he made when he—
“Guys! Hurry up!” Dad shouts, practically running to the entrance of Pompeii like a child at Disneyland.
Teller quietly hands me a water bottle. Before I can finish uttering, “Thank you,” he picks up the pace, long legs carrying him toward the awe-inspiring city.
“Did it hurt?” Dad asks.
I squint up at him. “Did what hurt?”
He tilts his chin toward my finger. “Your tattoo.” Dad never misses a beat. His expression stays neutral, so I can’t tell if he’s mad about it.
Still, my cheeks redden. “A little bit, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It’s small, though. Are you mad?”
A pause. “It’s not my body. And I’m just glad you got something discreet.”
“Well, I was thinking of getting a full back tattoo of Brandon and Brian.”
This makes him laugh.
“Speaking of, how are my boys doing?” I ask Dad as we journey through the ruins. Mei and Teller follow close behind. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a fully preserved city, with grand villas and ancient streets dating back two thousand years.
“Brandon is the same as ever. Brian is gassier than usual. Probably because the scoundrel got into that box of Nature Valley granola bars in the pantry. Ate eleven.”
“Eleven? Well, at least this time it wasn’t my birth control pills.” I snort, recalling the time he ate a whole pack and the vet had to induce vomiting. Brian has always had an obsession with eating things, including items that are absolutely not edible, like pens and Dad’s glasses.
“Yup. Came home the other day and the wrappers were all over the floor. When I dropped them off with Ellen, I warned her not to leave anything out. But apparently, he’s already done a number on her shoes.”
“Oh, Brian.” I sigh. “And things with you? How are you doing? I hope you aren’t too bored by yourself.”
Dad looks a little startled by the question, stare fixed on a group of tourists weaving through the square. “Not at all. I’m keeping busy, actually.”
His response doesn’t surprise me. He never admits to feeling lonely. “Oh yeah? Working on a big case?”
He nods. “You could say that.”
“And keeping busy with pickleball?” I tease as we enter the thermal baths.
“Hey, don’t knock it ’til you try it.”
“I’m still confused as to how this new hobby started. I’ve never seen you play a sport in my life.”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he snaps shots of the mosaics with intricate mythological battles. Strange. It’s only once we make our way to the plaster casts that he responds, “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”
I quirk my brow, eyeing Teller up ahead. “About pickleball?”
“In a manner of speaking. But first, I wanted to ask how things are going with Caleb.”
“I scared him off by telling him about my vision and now he’s gone forever,” I say, hanging my head. Dad has always been wary of the whole soulmate thing. But I can’t help but feel like I’m disappointing the entire family, yet again.
Dad frowns. “Ah, I guess that could scare off the best of them, huh?”
“Afraid so. How did you react when Mom told you about her vision? Did you think she was crazy too?”
He’s quiet for a couple moments. “It certainly threw me for a loop. But it didn’t scare me off.”
I sigh, resting my weight on a stone bench outside the amphitheater. “Ugh. I can’t believe I messed up my one and only shot at love.”
“You didn’t, Lo. Don’t get too hung up on what you think you saw.”
This takes me by surprise. Sure, Dad is logical like Teller. But he’s never outwardly expressed disbelief in the family gifts. “What I think I saw? Do you not believe I had a vision?”
He winces. “No. That’s not necessarily what I meant.”
“Then why are you skeptical?”
A weak smile flits across his face that I can’t help but interpret as pity. “I’m your father. It’s my job to be skeptical about every man you date, isn’t it?”
“For everyone else, yes. But not when he’s The One. Mom had this same vision about you. And you two were the epitome of soulmates.”
“You don’t understand everything, Lo.”
I clench my jaw. Here he goes again, treating me like a child, insinuating that I’m not mature enough to comprehend things, especially about my mother. About my family. I narrow my gaze. “You’re right. I don’t understand everything. Because you refuse to tell me anything about Mom.”
“That’s not true at all.”
Is he for real? A surge of annoyance shoots through me, and I think back to my talk with Teller on the train to Florence—about being more honest with Dad. “Come on. Every time I bring her up, you get all weird. I know it’s been hard for you, but it’s hard for me too. I’ve tried to be good about not asking too many details, but given the situation with Caleb, the least you can do is throw me a few breadcrumbs.”
He shakes his head and turns away, like he’s searching for a quick exit. “Honey, trust me. If there was anything important for you to know, I would tell you.”
“I’ll settle for anything, important or not.”
“Lo, just drop it. Please.” This isn’t his casual avoidance. There’s agitation in his eyes, and I don’t know if it’s him being protective or simply the fact that he hates talking about Mom.
I don’t want to make him uncomfortable or ruin Pompeii for us, so I just drop it. And we’re back to the same place, lingering in the silence of Mom’s absence.